Just One Season in London by Leigh Michaels

Author:Leigh Michaels [Michaels, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.
Published: 2011-07-27T04:00:00+00:00

Twelve

Whatever Carrisbrooke was talking about—he was reciting a poem, if Portia’s ears hadn’t deceived her—it made Sophie laugh. And Sophie’s laugh—that delightful, effortless gurgle—in turn attracted attention from the entire room, which only served to make everyone notice that the young Lord Carrisbrooke and the beautiful Miss Ryecroft seemed to be on excellent terms. Even from halfway across the room, Portia could see speculation on the faces of several matrons. At least the crowd was greatly diminished now, as the fashionable hour for calls slipped away.

Still, with so many eyes focused on the pair in the center of the room, Portia knew that if she simply burst on the twosome and snatched Sophie away, the gossip would fly. She looked around for something—or someone—that might serve as a distraction.

Lord Swindon caught her eye, his gaze full of irony. “What a pretty child she is.”

“Indeed. And she’s as charming as she is beautiful.” Portia wished—not for the first time—that it was possible to speak her mind. Sophie was charming, but she was hardly the perfectly prim miss that Portia made her sound.

“So sweet, in fact, that she’s apt to give the sugar sickness to anyone who gets too close,” Swindon added.

Portia gave him a vague smile—one that said she was listening no more than was polite—and moved on toward Sophie. Why, she wondered, was it no fun at all to cross blades with Swindon? If Lord Ryecroft had said the same thing—about little Juliana Farling, for instance—Portia would have been struggling to keep from snorting with amusement.

“My dear,” she murmured into Sophie’s ear. “Your brother wishes to speak to you. Now.”

“Is Lord Ryecroft free?” Carrisbrooke said eagerly. “I wish to speak with him myself.” With a grand gesture, he offered his arm to Sophie. She flashed a look up at him and gave him her hand. Carrisbrooke tucked it into his elbow with care and strolled across the room with regal arrogance.

Portia sighed. Her effort to peel Sophie away from her suitor had only made things worse.

“Yet another duty for the put-upon companion,” Swindon murmured. “Minding the children and sending them to Papa for discipline. Are you paid extra for acting as a governess on top of your other responsibilities?”

Portia thought, There’s no pleasure in sharing a joke with him because Swindon says everything with a cruel twist. Rye would have made a simple observation of human nature, too true to be considered rude…

“I beg your pardon, Lord Swindon. My attention wandered for a moment. You were saying, I believe, that Miss Ryecroft has excellent manners?”

“I was saying that I prefer my companions to have more spirit.” His gaze lingered on her mouth.

Portia was relieved when Padgett appeared once more in the doorway. “Mr. Winston, my lady.”

With an air of leisure, Marcus Winston crossed the room to kiss Lady Stone’s hand. He murmured some-thing that made her laugh, and then turned as if he was magnetically drawn toward the small group by the window.

Carrisbrooke drew himself up to his full height as he faced his uncle.

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